The Complete Sherlock Holmes

All night their course lay through intricate
defiles and over irregular and rock-strewn paths.
More than once they lost their way, but Hope’s intimate
knowledge of the mountains enabled them
to regain the track once more. When morning
broke, a scene of marvellous though savage beauty
lay before them. In every direction the great snowcapped
peaks hemmed them in, peeping over each
other’s shoulders to the far horizon. So steep were
the rocky banks on either side of them, that the
larch and the pine seemed to be suspended over
their heads, and to need only a gust of wind to
come hurtling down upon them. Nor was the
fear entirely an illusion, for the barren valley was
thickly strewn with trees and boulders which had
fallen in a similar manner. Even as they passed,
a great rock came thundering down with a hoarse
rattle which woke the echoes in the silent gorges,
and startled the weary horses into a gallop.
As the sun rose slowly above the eastern horizon,
the caps of the great mountains lit up one
after the other, like lamps at a festival, until they
were all ruddy and glowing. The magnificent
spectacle cheered the hearts of the three fugitives
and gave them fresh energy. At a wild torrent
which swept out of a ravine they called a halt and
watered their horses, while they partook of a hasty
breakfast. Lucy and her father would fain have
rested longer, but Jefferson Hope was inexorable.
“They will be upon our track by this time,” he said.
“Everything depends upon our speed. Once safe
in Carson we may rest for the remainder of our
lives.”
During the whole of that day they struggled
on through the defiles, and by evening they calculated
that they were more than thirty miles from
their enemies. At night-time they chose the base
of a beetling crag, where the rocks offered some
protection from the chill wind, and there huddled
together for warmth, they enjoyed a few hours’
sleep. Before daybreak, however, they were up and
on their way once more. They had seen no signs
of any pursuers, and Jefferson Hope began to think
that they were fairly out of the reach of the terrible
organization whose enmity they had incurred.
He little knew how far that iron grasp could reach,
or how soon it was to close upon them and crush
them.
About the middle of the second day of their
flight their scanty store of provisions began to run
A Study In Scarlet
CHAPTER V.
The Avenging Angels
51
out. This gave the hunter little uneasiness, however,
for there was game to be had among the
mountains, and he had frequently before had to
depend upon his rifle for the needs of life. Choosing
a sheltered nook, he piled together a few
dried branches and made a blazing fire, at which
his companions might warm themselves, for they
were now nearly five thousand feet above the sea
level, and the air was bitter and keen. Having tethered
the horses, and bade Lucy adieu, he threw
his gun over his shoulder, and set out in search of
whatever chance might throw in his way. Looking
back he saw the old man and the young girl
crouching over the blazing fire, while the three animals
stood motionless in the back-ground. Then
the intervening rocks hid them from his view.
He walked for a couple of miles through one
ravine after another without success, though from
the marks upon the bark of the trees, and other
indications, he judged that there were numerous
bears in the vicinity. At last, after two or three
hours’ fruitless search, he was thinking of turning
back in despair, when casting his eyes upwards he
saw a sight which sent a thrill of pleasure through
his heart. On the edge of a jutting pinnacle, three
or four hundred feet above him, there stood a creature
somewhat resembling a sheep in appearance,
but armed with a pair of gigantic horns. The bighorn—for
so it is called—was acting, probably, as
a guardian over a flock which were invisible to the
hunter; but fortunately it was heading in the opposite
direction, and had not perceived him. Lying
on his face, he rested his rifle upon a rock, and
took a long and steady aim before drawing the
trigger. The animal sprang into the air, tottered
for a moment upon the edge of the precipice, and
then came crashing down into the valley beneath.
The creature was too unwieldy to lift, so the
hunter contented himself with cutting away one
haunch and part of the flank. With this trophy
over his shoulder, he hastened to retrace his steps,
for the evening was already drawing in. He had
hardly started, however, before he realized the difficulty
which faced him. In his eagerness he had
wandered far past the ravines which were known
to him, and it was no easy matter to pick out the
path which he had taken. The valley in which he
found himself divided and sub-divided into many
gorges, which were so like each other that it was
impossible to distinguish one from the other. He
followed one for a mile or more until he came to